Flashback (Season 4, Episode 15 - Finale)
by bionic4ever
Summary: (Season 4, Episode 15 - Finale) Michael's trial resumes...and Jaime and Steve need help to face what Michael has done. A vacation on 'their' island may be just what they need to repair their relationship and soothe their souls.
1. Prologue

**FLASHBACK** - Season Four, Episode 15  
Prologue

Steve paced anxiously outside of the judge's chamber. He knew that on the other side of those heavy oak doors, Michael's defense team was going to try to rip Jaime to shreds. They'd tried to prepare her for the worst...but was that even possible? What Michael had done to her had rocked Jaime to her core - and what he'd threatened to do was utterly horrific. As a neurologist, he knew exactly how to wipe her mind clean (or turn it into 'mushy scrambled eggs', as he'd put it) and the needle he'd been about to use on Jaime when she'd gained control of the gun would've done exactly that. The thought was terrifying; it was evil beyond comprehension.

Waiting outside of the Tribunal (as a potential witness) was almost as tough for Steve as listening over a speaker while Jaime stared death in the face had been. Both times, the feeling of helplessness was overwhelming. He wanted desperately to be by her side, to help give her courage and strength...to comfort her. Jaime would be needing all three.

Inside the Tribunal chamber, Morrisey has just finished his opening statement. Michael was charged with five counts of Attempted Murder of a Federal Agent - the first for switching the malfunctioning ear back into Jaime's head and the others for each time he had turned up the voltage. A sixth count covered what he'd done to Rudy. There was a charge of Kidnapping...and every other felony they could come up with, in the hope that when (not 'if' - _**when**_) Marchetti was found Guilty, the judge would run his sentences consecutively and Michael would never see the light of day again.

The lead Defense Attorney stood and placed his hands on his client's shoulders, drawing an immediate _Objection!_from Morrisey. Testimony and evidence in the Tribunal were to be presented to the judge while the participants remained seated. There was no witness box, no pacing of the floor by the attorneys - and no jury to view what were obvious theatrics. The judge agreed, granting the motion and instructing Joseph Reinert to take his seat.

Reinert scowled and sat down. He was everything a defense attorney hired by a clearly guilty client _should_ look like...and then some. As he began to speak, Michael glared across the table, attempting to stare Jaime down - to _intimidate _her - but she met his gaze squarely, with resolution and a strong sense of purpose...and (so far) unafraid. She knew the worst was over; he couldn't hurt her now - and he deserved to pay dearly for what he'd done to her, to Rudy...and to Steve.

As they'd expected, Reinert tried to place the blame firmly on Jaime's shoulders. She'd led Michael on, allowing him to believe that what they'd shared three years earlier was possible again - then 'cruelly dashed his hopes and dreams'. It was painful to listen to but Jaime had been well-prepared. She'd known this was coming. Still, she had to wonder what had happened to the handsome young doctor - so talented and full of the promise of even more discoveries and innovations in the future. None of it made sense! (_Had_ she been responsible for his downfall - even in part - a small voice inside of Jaime couldn't help asking...) _NO!_No; she hadn't! She refused to let Reinert's words (or Michael's eyes) get to her! She was there to do a job and she intended to see it through!

Then...something unexpected was thrown in their faces...something no one on the Prosecution's side of the table had been prepared for. Reinert began talking about Grant Kingsley, about his mind control devices and the effects he'd achieved upon his victims. The defense attorney glanced in turn at each person on the other side of the table - Morrisey, Hansen, Oscar, Russ...and Jaime - knowing and savoring the effect his words were about to have on each of them.

He claimed Michael had been 'zapped' by Kingsley's device and left with an intricate, complicated stack of instructions on how to torment, torture and eventually _annihilate_ Jaime and Steve. According to Reinert, _Michael was Kingsley's final victim_!


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

An immediate recess was called for...and granted. Steve could only watch as they paraded past him and into the miniscule conference area. Jaime was being supported by Mark and Doctor Corinth and looked positively _stricken_. He wasn't allowed to ask (with the Tribunal still in session) but _what the hell had happened in there_...and so quickly? Steve knew that right now, one word or the slightest contact with Jaime - or with anyone who'd just come out of the judge's chambers - could result in a mistrial on the grounds of witness tampering. Technically, he shouldn't even be where he was...but _no one_ had expected the Tribunal to spill out of chambers so suddenly or so _soon_. The group moved quickly past him, all eyes grim, and shut the conference room door. All Steve could do was continue to pace...and to wonder.

''How bad _is_ this?'' Russ asked. Out of the assembled group, he and Rudy knew just how devastating the effects of Kingsley's devices had been - and how out of character it had forced _them _to act.

''The worst,'' Morrisey announced. ''Judge Rafferty cannot deny him the right to put on his 'best defense'. Meaning, if Michael's attorney requests that he be given a dose of the compound that cured the two of you...and if Michael has any acting ability whatsoever...''

Oscar nodded. ''Reasonable doubt.''

''That's right,'' Morrisey confirmed.

''There has to be a way to prove he's faking!'' Russ insisted. ''If not, he'll walk...won't he?''

''We'll figure it out,'' Rudy promised. ''We _have _to!''

''Um...'' Jaime began, very quietly - so quietly that in the flurry of activity, she was almost overlooked. But Rudy heard her.

''What is it, Honey?'' he asked gently.

''What if...Michael's telling the truth?'' she proposed, very, very reluctantly. The room fell silent...and Jaime fought mightily against the urge to cry. The thought terrified her - but it made sense. Rudy and Mark held her hands - one on each side - as they sat next to her, and it gave Jaime courage. ''We have to...think about that...I guess...'' she told the room. ''I mean, he did a complete 180.''

''He also tried to _kill _you,'' Oscar reminded her.

Jaime nodded. ''Yeah...or _Kingsley _did. I wish...I could talk to Steve!''

Unfortunately, for now she could _not_...and if the Tribunal was postponed again, it appeared the two star witnesses would be forced to spend even more time apart.

* * *

''Your Honor,'' Morrisey stated in a firm voice, ''we accept the Defendant's motion that he be given a dose of - _his own_ - curative compound, with the stipulation that he submit to _all _medical and psychological examinations by a team we will provide for him.''

''Noted - and approved,'' Judge Rafferty announced.

''We also request a continuance, of course, for the period of time necessary for these examination.''

''So granted.''

''And Your Honor, we respectfully request that Colonel Austin be allowed to spend this indefinite period of time with his wife.'' (Morrisey had to at least try.)

''Denied, Counselor. And the Court admonishes that you know this cannot be an option.''

''Noted, Your Honor. And I apologize to the Court - but this continuance could by its nature be lengthy and Mrs. Austin's medical condition is such that she needs to be with her husband, for her physical well-being.'' (Even more so, for Jaime's emotional well-being...but Morrisey wasn't about to say anything on the record that the Defense could turn around and use to make Jaime appear unstable.)

''Unless by 'medical condition', you mean that she's nine months' pregnant and already in labor - which certainly does not appear to be the case -''

Morrisey sighed. ''Motion withdrawn, Your Honor.''

''Let her see him,'' came a quiet voice from the Defense side of the huge table.

_Michael._.

Whether it was a ploy to appear more sympathetic in the eyes of the judge or whether there might still be the smallest shred of humanity left somewhere within him was impossible to tell. But the Prosecution's motion had no grounds in the eyes of the law - and had already been withdrawn. Michael's whispered words had no bearing...except with Jaime. Startled to hear his 'real' voice again (and not the harsh timbre of a man bent on inflicting _pain_ before he killed her), Jaime looked up...and her eyes met Michael's gaze. For just a split second, she thought she saw the _doctor_ there, the man she could've once fallen in love with...and then his eyes hardened again and grew cold. He menaced her and made her shiver with just a look. It was the stuff of her worst nightmares.

* * *

Michael's bed (in the Security wing at National) was flanked by a bailiff on each side, then by two Security officers and finally by Reinert and Morrisey. Jaime waited in Mark's office with Mark, Doctor Corinth and Oscar while Russ sat with Steve in the waiting room. Everyone's thoughts were on the syringe Rudy was preparing, filled with a compound they'd all assumed would never be needed again.

Michael had submitted with quiet willingness to the IV and now every man in the room leaned a little closer as Rudy injected the compound into the tubing. Michael closed his eyes and his body convulsed hard as the drug flooded his system. He had experimented to find exactly the right combination that would simulate a severe blow to the head, to aid in 'recovering' Kingsley's mind control victims; now Michael himself would be its (hopefully) last recipient.

He convulsed a second time, then lay still...and slowly opened his eyes...


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Michael's eyes opened _slowly _and he stared at his surroundings...with absolutely zero comprehension. The bailiffs, guards, attorneys - everyone - looked as shell-shocked as Michael...everyone except Rudy, that is. While Michael himself had been the one who'd administered the compound to all of Kingsley's victims, he had (fortunately) kept copious notes. Rudy motioned the attorneys into the hallway.

''This is normal,'' he explained. ''Think of it exactly like a head injury because, in essence, that's what this is. Some of the subjects were verbal immediately after receiving the treatment - but most were not. He'll need to sleep off the effects for at least 12 hours before we can begin having him tested.''

''Surely you have an opinion, Doctor Wells,'' Reinert ventured, ''medical or...otherwise.''

''Not one I'll be sharing; not at this juncture,'' Rudy wisely replied. ''I'll give him a sedative now and more in a few hours. I want the bailiffs _and_ the guards to stay with him - and stay _alert_- even while Michael is under sedation. And I want their hands on their weapons at all times.''

Rudy was taking no chances.

* * *

''How long do you think this continuance might take?'' Steve asked Russ. (In other words, _how long 'til I can see my wife?_)

''As long as it takes to prove this is fraudulent.''

''So...'' Steve began thoughtfully, ''as someone who's been through it - and the only one who remembers it - you don't think this is the real deal?''

''Medically, I'm in no position to judge,'' Russ admitted, ''but I just don't see how it's possible. I was given one command at a time - always - not an entire string. And Kingsley made sure each one was carried out before issuing another. Plus we have the little seemingly insignificant fact the _Kingsley is dead_.''

''In other words, close but no cigar.''

''You got it. A brilliant attempt at a defense...for someone with no defense at all.''

* * *

''I told Rudy to give Michael a placebo,'' Doctor Corinth announced. ''That way if Michael 'came out of it' acting like he'd been brainwashed - or 'zapped', or however you're terming it - we'd _know_. And there's our proof.''

''He was thinking about it when I talked to him,'' Oscar confirmed, ''But I couldn't let him do it. I've known Rafferty from his work on the bench for many years; he'd have hung Rudy out to dry. Do you think there's any chance Michael will receive this treatment, wake up and be precisely the same as he was before: angry, scorned, homicidal - with no change?''

''You're kidding, right?'' Corinth scoffed. ''He'll come out of this bewildered, confused and back to his old self - in a performance worthy of an Oscar, and Emmy _and_a Golden Globe. He'd be a fool not to; it's his only chance.''

''And what if he's not?'' Jaime asked, her voice rising plaintively. ''Acting...I mean. What if...this is for real?''

''I know you like to believe that,'' Mark soothed, ''but -''

''But...the change in him...it was so drastic!'' Jaime said softly. ''He went from...from someone who _wanted_ me to...to someone who wanted to _kill_ me. None of this makes any sense...unless Michael is telling the truth...unless...'' Jaime's voice still trembled at his name. ''Unless..._Kingsley _did this.''

''Babe,'' Oscar began as gently as possible, ''I'd like to believe he's innocent almost as much as you would - but we have to consider the facts -''

''I know...the facts, Oscar! I was there! And it was..._awful_. Just...awful. But I saw Michael's _eyes_ today, when he said what he did...about how the judge should let me be with Steve...and they were different. _He _was...different! Just for that second or two...but...he was there...his eyes...''

''Get some ice,'' Mark whispered to Doctor Corinth. ''_Fast_'' He knelt down on the floor in front of Jaime's chair and took both of her hands in one of his. ''Jaime, look at me,'' he said firmly. ''Let go of what you saw in that courtroom - and in the cabin - and just look at me.'' Mark took the bottle of oil of peppermint from his pocket, opened it and stuck it under her nose. ''Now breathe. Nice and deep. Focus.''

''No!'' she cried. ''You don't...understand! You aren't...listening! His eyes...Michael's eyes...''

Doctor Corinth returned with the ice and Mark pressed a cube into the palm of Jaime's left hand. This time, it wasn't enough. She was no longer seeing or hearing him. ''Take two cubes and hold one to each of her temples,'' he told Doctor Corinth. Jaime shook her head, trying to fight him off. Mark sighed in defeat. ''There's a syringe in my top desk drawer,'' he said softly.

Whether Michael was faking it or whether he truly was one of Kingsley's victims was - for this moment, at least - immaterial. The one of Kingsley's _true_ victims that he'd taken the greatest joy from tormenting was about to spend yet another night in a hospital bed, under the effects of yet another needle.

* * *

Upstairs on the Security floor, the bailiffs and guards stood at full attention with their hands on their weapons...just in case. Many hours later, when the patient in the bed opened his eyes again, it didn't appear such measures had been necessary - but not one of them stood down. They watched with Military-like vigilance as the young former doctor in the bed seemed to try - and fail - to make sense of his surroundings.

''I need...a doctor...'' he gasped. ''Please?''


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

''Steve...''

Jaime had been focused on _eyes_; they were her fascination - and her downfall. First Michael's eyes and then Kingsley's had played in ugly rapid-fire projection in her mind and now her own eyes were confused, soft,,,and filled with tears. When she was finally able to focus (if just for a few minutes) on her surroundings, the hand that held hers was not her husband's; it was Mark's.

''Where's...Steve?'' she asked (not at all 'grounded').

Mark couldn't bear to tell her that her husband had just returned to his (temporary) OSI-sponsored apartment; he hadn't been told she'd been admitted or that she was in trouble. ''He can't be here right now,'' the therapist reminded her gently, ''because of the Tribunal.'' Jaime herself had regrettably never even made it home; she'd gone straight from Mark's office up to the Third Floor...and now Mark could see that she was in serious trouble. Nothing he'd tried had made any difference - not her usual lemons, ice, peppermint oil...or even sedation. Jaime was still locked in the prison that Kingsley had fashioned for her - and that Michael had forced her back into...

''I...need...Steve...'' Jaime whispered before sinking back 'under' and into the horrors of her own mind once again.

* * *

Steve was unable to sleep. Something was _wrong_; he could just _feel_ it! He wanted to pick up the phone and call the house, but if he did anything to jeopardize Michael's conviction, Jaime (and the others) would have his head on a platter. _Besides_, he reasoned, _it's the middle of the night and Jaime's been sound asleep for hours_. Mark would be with her, spending the night in the spare bedroom - just to be on the safe side - since it would be morning (at least) before he could begin testing Michael. Steve had just decided to finally lie down and try for a few hours of sleep...when the phone rang.

''It's Mark,'' the therapist said urgently (but very, very quietly, not wanting to risk being overheard). ''I'm still up at National...with Jaime. There's a problem.'' Quickly, he filled Steve in on what had happened. ''I've got her sedated again; it was all I could do. She's asleep for the moment but she needs you.''

''I'm on my way,'' Steve told him.

''Steve...wait. We'll have to find some way to sneak you in...''

For Steve, that no longer mattered. Jaime was in trouble; she needed him. He would walk straight past whatever Security might try to stop him, just to get to her! But he also knew Mark was right. He wouldn't be able to help his wife if he was dragged forcibly from her room...so together, they worked out a plan...

* * *

Doctor Corinth and Rudy examined Michael together. ''I need to get back to work!'' he insisted. ''But I feel _rotten_...''

_You __are__ rotten _Corinth thought to himself. ''Tell me where the pain is - and scale it, 1 - 10.''

''My head is a nine,'' Michael answered, wincing as he tried to sit up. ''Feels like it's going to explode. Or like it already did. The rest of my body is about a five. What the hell happened...?''

* * *

Once they'd finally managed to get Michael settled and resting at least a little more comfortably, the two doctors headed up to the Third Floor and paused in the doorway, not sure if they were really witnessing what appeared to be happening. He may have somehow gotten past Security...but the male nurse beside Jaime's bed was someone they knew to be highly skilled in disguises (and stealth). Mark looked up guiltily when he heard them approach...but the 'nurse' was too wrapped up in trying to help his 'patient' to acknowledge the doctors' arrival.

Jaime was thrashing wildly in her bed, the sedative (which should've held her for at least six hours) having given her only an hour of rest. The demons she was struggling with were far more powerful than what Mark had thus far been able to do for her. Her monitors were going wild and Doctor Corinth ordered more coumadin, concerned she might be far enough 'gone' to throw her into Rejection and cause another clot to form. There were no lemons or ice now - they were useless at this point - but the 'medicine' she needed most had finally arrived.

Steve perched on the edge of the bed and tenderly cradled his wife's face in his hands, trying to make her 'see' him. ''I'm here, Sweetheart,'' he whispered. ''I gotcha; you're safe.''

Jaime felt his hands...and panicked, believing in her nightmare-world that Kingsley had finally reached her...and was pulling her straight down to Hell. Her arms flailed frantically, trying to push him away - but Steve kept up a firm but loving touch, smoothing her hair back, caressing her face and brushing away her tears. He knew from her eyes that Jaime was no longer 'with' them...and he couldn't bear to imagine the images her mind was inflicting on her.

_Smoke and explosions surrounded her, so thick that she couldn't see. Jaime felt __**hands**__ reaching for her through the darkness. Kingsley! He'd found her! She tried to run...but he 'had' her - and all she could do was try to slap his hands away. He refused to give up this time...kept pulling at her...grabbing her. The only touch she felt translated into an insistent effort to force her down to...wherever it was that he'd ended up. (Hell?) She had to get away! Jaime swung away from him and tried to run...but strong arms forced her back and she cried out in frustration - and __**terror**_.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

There was no way they could let Jaime leave the room in that condition...and absolutely no way Steve could chase or catch her if she did. Having Security grab her and forcibly return her was unthinkable, so while Steve's touch remained loving, he also had to be very firm. He held tightly to his wife's arms and eased her back into her bed. He looked to Mark and Rudy and shook his head; he needed _help_. Enough of Jaime's strength had returned that (in her panic) he was having trouble containing her.

The sedative had little effect when weighed against Jaime's determination to _get away_. Mark ordered a valium shot to supplement it; Steve would have to hold on while they waited. Meanwhile, Mark and Corinth moved to block the door in case she really did try to bolt, while Rudy stuck close to their patient and the monitors. Steve could feel the fight slowly draining out of her - but not enough. He held her down and leaned close to her right ear, trying to reach her so she would know she wasn't being manhandled again.

''You're safe, Sweetheart,'' he repeated, over and over. ''You're safe. I'm here...and I need you to try and come back to me. Just listen to my voice...''

_From somewhere in the depths of her personal hell, Jaime thought she heard her husband calling to her. But she knew Kingsley now, knew how he operated; this was another one of his tricks and she simply couldn't give in! In her mind, she darted aimlessly through the smoke and flames, trying to escape the inescapable. Then she felt another stab in her arm (the second...the third?) and sobbed brokenly as she realized he was going to win, after all..._

Steve shifted from pinning Jaime down to enveloping her in a tender embrace as the last of her struggle began to fade away. She leaned into him as reality returned, crying softly and finally allowing herself to be comforted. She didn't question the fact that her husband was _there_...didn't seem to notice his somewhat strange attire. She could feel his arms around her, hear his voice lovingly reassuring her - and as she drifted off to sleep, that was all that mattered.

* * *

One floor down (on the Security wing), Michael seemed to be fighting his own set of demons...quietly and (since the doctors he'd been assigned were all upstairs helping Jaime) all alone. The bailiffs and guards stood on wordless alert but _this_ patient wasn't trying to bolt. Nurses flitted in and out, gingerly and almost fearfully checking the patient's stats and dutifully recording them on his chart. He had stabilized. Once morning came (and the doctors were hopefully not quite so otherwise-occupied), testing could finally begin.

* * *

In the morning, Mark began trying to assist Jaime while Doctor Corinth performed the first basic neurological tests on Michael...and Morrisery re-petitioned the court to try and allow Steve to be with his wife on the grounds of medical urgency. (The fact that he'd spent most of the night at her side was conveniently not mentioned.) The attorney came armed with sworn statements from all three of Jaime's doctors and the readings from her monitors, which showed the serious danger she'd been in.

''Her ability to testify at all appears in doubt at this time,'' Judge Rafferty noted.

It was a risk they'd been forced to take; bringing Jaime's condition before the judge would make her appear (on the surface, at least) to be less than a competent witness. Morrisey had come prepared for this too.

''Your Honor, Mrs. Austin and her husband are both highly trained operatives. While she is currently suffering the effects of what _the defendant_ has done to her...Excuse me - 'allegedly' done to her - there is no doubt that she will recover in time to proceed with this Tribunal. Especially if your Honor will allow her husband to aid in this recovery. He will not taint her testimony - or vice versa - because as I said, they are both trained and experienced. And in this case, they have both suffered through the same 'alleged' experience. There would be no need to consult with each other on what they've been through; their only wish is to console each other and - with Your Honor's permission - for the Colonel to aid in his wife's physical recovery. Without his help, her condition remains perilous. With his help, you will have a competent, _healthy_ witness when this Tribunal re-opens. Her testimony is already fully formed; she requires his help only to aid in her physical recovery. And Your Honor, she is the only witness who can tell you first-hand what happened in that cabin. Her testimony is crucial. Thus, I plead with the Court to allow a special compassionate dispensation for the Colonel to be with his wife while we wait for these proceedings to re-commence. It seems to fly in the face of the law, but the Defendant himself requested in front of the Court...''

* * *

Steve waited tensely in Mark's office for the phone call from Morrisey. The judge's decision meant _everything _to him. Jaime was upstairs asleep, finally released (for the time being) from her waking nightmares and while he longed to be with her, the nurse's get-up wouldn't have been enough in the light of day. If caught in her room against the Court's permission, he faced being thrown in jail for contempt...and could do his wife no good at all while locked in a cell. Finally, the phone rang...


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

''What's the verdict?'' Steve asked in a voice filled with anxiety.

''It seems you have _Michael_ to thank for this,'' Morrisey told him, ''but go upstairs. Jaime _needs_ you.''

That was all Steve had to hear. Anything else the attorney might've had to say could wait. He found Rudy and Mark still at Jaime's bedside as she moaned softly in her sleep. As usual, Rudy's eyes were on the monitors while Mark watched their patient closely. Both men looked up to see Steve...and smiled. There was room on the opposite side of the bed and Steve took it, seating himself lightly so as not to alarm his wife. He took her left hand in both of his and sat quietly. Almost immediately, Rudy nodded the good news from his vigil at the read-outs...and Jaime opened her eyes.

* * *

''Michael, you probably know the drill better than I do,'' Doctor Corinth told him, ''but I need you to follow this pencil with just your eyes.''

''Would rather not...move my head...anyway,'' the younger doctor noted.

He seemed 'normal' now - not the homicidal person who'd raved at Jaime in the tape Corinth had heard - but the doctor wasn't convinced. Slowly, he moved the pencil from side to side, up and down and then toward Michael's face and back again. The reaction times were sluggish and eye movements just slightly 'off'; classic symptoms of a mild to moderate head injury. Not easy to fake, but for a well-studied neurologist like Michael, it was possible.

''Was I...in an accident?'' Michael queried. "And are you...my replacement?"

''Nope; no accident,'' Corinth told him. _Not an 'accident' in the least_...

* * *

Jaime's eyes were looking straight into Steve's; she was weak and stunned...but fully _present_. ''You shouldn't...be here...'' she whispered.

''It's okay now,'' Steve explained. ''But I don't want you worrying about that. Just concentrate on getting stronger again...so I can take my beautiful wife _home_.'' He couldn't instantly make it all okay for her, couldn't magically wipe away her nightmares or her struggles...but he could remain quietly and steadfastly by her side, allowing her to draw from his strength as he and the doctors helped her work her way through this.

''Michael...he did this...didn't he?'' Jaime asked, remembering the words Michael had spoken in the judge's chambers. ''What he said...?''

''Jaime -'' In Steve's opinion, the less she thought about Michael right now, the better - at least until she was a little stronger.

But (as usual) even in her weakened condition, Jaime was..._Jaime_...and she wanted to _know_! ''Well...?'' she prompted.

''Probably,'' Steve admitted (giving her only a partial truth). ''And also probably just a ploy for sympathy on his part. Now will you please _rest_? I'm not going anywhere; I promise.''

Jaime gave Steve's hand a grateful squeeze. She looked at Mark with a gaze that fearfully acknowledged what had just happened to her. ''Am I...okay?'' she asked him.

''You're the only one who can answer that,'' Mark responded.

''Any pain, Honey?'' Rudy queried.

Jaime shook her head. ''Just...scared. That was the worst one yet. But I...realized something.''

''Steve's right,'' Mark agreed. ''We can talk about this - and we definitely will - all you're willing to handle. But you should rest first.'' Now that Steve was here, hopefully her sleep could be truly _restful_.

Their intentions were only the best, but not allowing Jaime to talk about what she'd just experienced was no one's wisest move. She obediently closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep wondering why Michael had _really _wanted to help her, and remembering the very briefest glimpse of humanity she'd seen play across his face...and in his eyes...

_Fire burned her nostrils and the now-familiar smoke clouded her vision. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her still nearly-conscious stomach as she realized it was happening __**again**__...but she was powerless to stop it._

His eyes...

As the smoke cleared, she saw herself on the bed, Michael beside her with his shirt off, his eyes watching her leeringly. In the real-world, she'd been (almost) sure nothing had happened - in spite of his lurid implications. In her nightmare-world, it appeared that something

_**had**__...and Jaime shivered with revulsion as she heard the laughter mocking her. It was the laughter of the dead...Kingsley's laughter._

_**His eyes**__..._

As the smoke cleared again, she was staring down the length of a gun barrel but the eyes that taunted her from Michael's face...were

_Kingsley's __eyes._

_His eyes__..._

Jaime heard a voice from what seemed like very far away, telling her to_bite__ and as her mouth flooded with lemon juice and she sputtered, she surfaced with the vision still clear in her mind of Michael's eyes in that Tribunal. For just that briefest split-second, she'd glimpsed the Michael she knew...and she realized that he was still IN there...somewhere. She didn't 'want' him - not any more - but that didn't mean she didn't want to help him, if she could. Maybe she was the only one who could..._

Jaime opened her eyes and let the ice fall from her hand. She gazed into her husband's loving face, trying to gather strength from him, in order to say something she knew he wouldn't like. She knew without question that there was enough love - and enough trust - between them to weather even this. Steve listened patiently to everything she had to say and when she was finished he didn't love or trust her any less.

He thought she was delirious.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Jaime had awakened terrified by the images in her mind but she knew they'd been trying to tell her something. Slowly, she started relating what she'd seen. It came out in small, painful bursts at first...and several times she asked for her own 'grounding' materials or simply gazed into Steve's face before she could continue...but continue, she did...until she got all of it out.

Steve cringed inwardly when Jaime related the part about Michael being directly against her with his shirt off. _That_ detail had, of course, not come through the control room speaker; he'd had no idea until now (and he had to stifle a strong urge to storm downstairs and _kill _Marchetti) but he covered his own emotions for his wife's sake. Mark sat ready to stop her at any time, should the memories prove too much for her - and he came very close to doing so - but with Rudy's allowance that (for now) she was in no physical danger, Mark had allowed her to keep going.

When Jaime reached the end of her painstaking (and painful) recollections, she looked at Steve, then at each of her doctors...then back at Steve, tightly gripping his hand. ''I think Michael's innocent,'' she announced, surprising herself most of all. ''And...I think...what I just saw...proves it.''

''You're still very weak,'' Mark said (by way of a gentle explanation) ''and you've just had two quite serious episodes.'' He began to reach into the pocket of his jacket but Jaime spotted him.

''Please...don't...not another needle...not yet...anyway.''

''You've had enough for now, Young Lady,'' Rudy confirmed. Jaime's careful (and often halted) recitation of her nightmare had taken too much out of her. And no one - not even Jaime - dared argued with Rudy!

Jaime sighed softly as her eyes fluttered closed. They didn't understand; none of them did! In this latest flashback, she'd been tormented by _Michael's_ acts but in each and every case, she'd seen or heard _Kingsley _behind it all! Surely, that meant something...or was it just another hallucination? Would she be able to testify at all, if she couldn't even trust her own mind?

Jaime's doctors (and Steve, of course) had nearly the identical thought. _Would_ she be able to testify? Day One of the Tribunal had ended in just around an hour...and that brief exposure to Michael had sent Jaime into a complete tailspin. She certainly couldn't go into court talking about things she'd seen in a flashback! They wouldn't allow it to happen.

* * *

Once he'd made sure Jaime was sleeping soundly under Steve's watchful eye and with Rudy close by, it was time for Mark to begin preliminary tests with his other patient. After a brief stop in his office to check with his assistants in DC and offer guidance in a few of their cases, he downed a quick mug of coffee while he tried to shift gears. It was important that he maintain neutrality with Michael - no preconceived notions whatsoever - in order to give a fair and just diagnosis to the court. When he was ready, he made a few more notes and then headed up to the Second Floor, Security Wing.

''Good morning, Michael,'' he greeted. ''How do you feel?''

''I met the new doc...this morning,'' Michael began. ''He seems...'' the younger doctor appeared to be searching for the right word. ''...competent.''

''You've never met him before?'' Mark queried.

''No. I think they called him in after...whatever happened to me.''

''Michael, I need you to tell me the last thing you remember.'' Mark watched as his former colleague seemed to strain to comply.

''I was...well, Rudy and I were removing Jaime's faulty ear.''

''That's all you remember?'' Mark puzzled.

''Something must have happened...after that. An accident on the way home? Or maybe...Austin conked me on the head?''

''We'll work together and try to fill in at least some of those blanks,'' Mark told him. ''But that's enough for now.''

Michael nodded, already drifting into a semblance of sleep. ''Too many...blanks...'' he whispered.

* * *

Steve watched Jaime as she slept, gratified that she seemed more serene now - with no sign of any approaching nightmares. He couldn't stop dwelling on what she'd said about waking up _in bed with Michael...with his shirt off_. Steve's mind played back what he'd witnessed through the speakers...which had been bad enough**_._**It wasn't possible...was it? Steve thought it had to be another ploy by Michael to play with Jaime's mind and emotions - one she'd thankfully turned on him, as the start of eliciting his confession. He reasoned that if anything had truly happened, Michael would've turned on the speaker first, to torment Steve with every sound. Except...if Jaime had been out cold, would there have _been_ any sound? The torment for Steve was _now_, having to wonder, worry and not know for certain. Horrible images he couldn't bear to think about flashed across his mind's eye...and Steve felt himself 'going down'. He had the presence of mind to push away from Jaime's bed so she was out of reach and he couldn't grab for her as easily if it came to that...but it was already too late to do anything more. He looked helplessly at Rudy, who'd been alerted by the sudden motion of the chair.

''Page...Mark...'' Steve gasped.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

''Our case is shot,'' Hansen fumed. ''Marchetti is faking - we all know that - but with our star witness _incompetent_-''

''Jaime is _not _incompetent!'' Mark insisted. ''If the Tribunal were held today, you're right; she'd be unable to testify. But we have time...time Marchetti has given us while we have him analyzed.''

''And you can keep analyzing him from here to Doomsday and back,'' Oscar added, ''if that's how long we need to prepare.''

''But it won't do Jaime - or the case - any good to drag it out longer than necessary,'' Russ put in.

It was their first full-out strategy meeting since the bombshell had been dropped in court - and Frank Morrisey listened carefully to what each participant had to say. They talked about Michael's condition. So far, the preliminary symptoms could be faked by someone with Michael's knowledge but what about his confession...a diatribe that had included only his own personal motives of jealousy and anger? It seemed improbable (at best) that such a complicated set of commands (and their subsequent 'reveal' when he confessed to Jaime, whether intentionally or not) could have been pre-programmed. And there was certainly no one still at the other end of Kingsley's device, doling out orders one by one.

They pondered whether Kingsley might have 'upped the ante' - upgraded his system or possibly built a third device they were unaware of...but if that were the case, Rudy argued, who was left to be pulling the strings? Anyone with a motive was gone now...or locked away. Grant and Graham Kingsley...both deceased. Chris Williams was securely locked away in isolation in the Federal Pen. There seemed to be no one left with enough venomous jealousy to have caused...all of this. If Michael was snowing them all, it remained a brilliant defense; it would be tough to argue away the reasonable doubt. If he _wasn't _faking...the possibilities were terrifying.

And then there was _Jaime_. She was lying in a hospital bed with an uncertain prognosis. Even Mark Conrad was unable to say whether - if/when she pulled out of this tailspin - she'd be able to testify in court to everything that had happened without falling into a full flashback in front of the judge from the sheer trauma. Hansen was his ornery, negative self but it appeared he might have hit the nail on the head.

The case against Michael - at least as they knew it - was in shambles.

They had reached no consensus of any kind when Mark got the urgent page, summoning him back to the Third Floor.

* * *

It was a good thing Mark was in shape - and had run the length of both hallways. He found Rudy trying to run interference between Steve, who was standing in the corner nearest Jaime's bed, virtually _growling _at some unseen (but very real to him) torment...and Jaime, who had felt Steve reaching for her before he'd pushed his chair away and was on her own way 'down'. He'd only brought one 'just in case' shot with him and it was dosed for Jaime...but Steve needed it more.

''Call for more sedation and then help Jaime,'' he instructed Rudy, knowing he'd have to be the one to wrangle with Steve. Mark approached his spooked patient cautiously, knowing one swing from that powerful arm could send him into orbit. He moved in from the left and at first Steve didn't appear to notice...but he did notice Rudy.

''Stay away from my wife!'' Steve snarled. ''I won't let you hurt her again!'' He lunged toward the bed and Mark lunged toward Steve, plunging the needle into his arm in a rush because he had no other choice. It didn't even seem to phase the guard dog in Steve.

''Duck, Rudy!'' Mark called out, putting himself between the bed and Steve's reach of Jaime or the older doctor. Steve grabbed the metal footboard with his right hand, bracing himself, and swung out with his left, catching the therapist on the side of his face. Mark sank down onto the foot of the bed but refused to move. As the foot board bent toward him, he was forced to move closer to Jaime to keep from being pinned to the mattress by the metal. Steve saw this as an obvious threat...or more aptly, as _Michael _once again making moves on his wife. He howled in anger and reached for the doctor...as enough of the drug hit his system to at least weaken him - and he sank to one knee, still trying to reach Jaime or remove 'Michael' from the picture.

Doctor Corinth arrived (alerted by a page from Oscar) and dove immediately into the fray, helping to separate a now-weakened (but still fighting) Steve from his intended quarries. From her bed, Jaime sobbed quietly, seeing not what was really going on around her (which was horrific enough) but a battleground of smoke, a rotted old roller coaster...and the ground 90 feet below her that more than one pair of hands were now trying to force her to meet. She had no fight left in her; there were too many of them and it had gone on for too long. With one last look around for help that she couldn't see coming, Jaime prepared to let go of the edge.

Then...she heard Steve's voice. ''I won't let you hurt her again!'' She grabbed onto the rail as the rotted wood of her worst nightmares crumbled beneath her...and she hung on for dear life - and for _Steve_.

* * *

One floor below, alerted by the urgent page that had called Doctor Corinth away from examining him (and by the general flurry of activity that a well-trained doctor could just _sense_ in the hospital around him)...Michael Marchetti _smiled_.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Jaime reached out her hand, searching through the smoke for the only touch that would comfort her. ''_Steve_...'' she whispered urgently.

''Jaime...?'' Through his own fog, Steve thought he heard Jaime calling to him, so softly he could barely make out the sound of her voice, but he reached for her through the darkness.

It seemed improbable - and in many ways the worst thing they could do - but nothing else was helping bring either Jaime or Steve 'back'...not the grounding tools or the sedatives or trying to talk them down. Since Steve's fight and fury seemed to have left him, Mark and Corinth released their hold (where they'd been forcing him to remain in a chair) and helped him over to the bed, connecting the two hands that were reaching out only for each other. Almost instantly, Steve's entire countenance softened, his body relaxed and his eyes began to focus first on Jaime and then on the room as a whole. He was stunned...but he was 'back'.

Jaime was not quite as lucky. Steve's touch calmed her and she gave a soft little sigh...but instead of returning to reality (and her husband's waiting arms), she blinked and her eyes changed visibly - from staring at unseen horrors to staring off into the distance, seemingly at nothing at all. Steve's body began to feel the full effects of the second shot Mark had given him but even as his eyelids were drooping, he saw that Jaime was still in trouble and he fought to stay awake for her.

They didn't know how the court would view it...but they didn't especially care. Rudy and Mark had a padded gurney rolled in, next to Jaime's bed, and they eased Steve into it. They assessed (correctly) that it was the only way he'd allow himself to settle all the way down and rest. In true Steve-like fashion, though, he sat up and leaned toward Jaime, whispering words of loving support, trying to draw her back, until the doctors threatened to move him into the next room if he didn't lie down. He finally gave in, still holding tightly to Jaime's hand.

* * *

''Catatonia?'' Rudy theorized, talking with Mark in the hallway while Doctor Corinth attempted to assess Jaime.

''Possibly. But I don't think so. Jaime may be stuck somewhere between her flashback and the real world.''

Rudy frowned. ''I'm not following you.''

''What she saw in her nightmare - in her flashback, because that's what it really was - was so traumatic that she needed to retreat from it, of course. Hearing Steve or possibly feeling his touch allowed her to do that. But what's happening here, in her real life, is equally terrifying. In essence, she feels like she has nowhere to go that's safe. And Jaime is stuck.''

''Alright; so what do we do?''

''We talk to her. And keep talking to her. While Steve is under such heavy sedation, he won't even hear us - but when he wakes up he'll be the most important medicine we could possibly give her. We can keep Jaime from slipping any further away. _Steve _can bring her back.''

''If he's able to do that without 'going down' again himself,'' Rudy pointed out.

''Right,'' Mark agreed. ''They'll need to be watched around the clock, at least at first. And we can't let Reinert or - God forbid - Michael get wind of this. They'd have a field day. Speaking of Michael, I have to head down there now. Can you stay with Jaime?''

''Of course,'' Rudy confirmed. (He'd planned to do exactly that anyway.) ''And I'll keep talking to her. About anything in particular?''

''Any happy memories you can draw on. You have a history with her - and you know her history with Steve. Go from there. Good luck; I think we're both about to need it.''

* * *

''Michael, you removed Jaime's faulty ear -''

''Rudy removed it; I assisted,'' Michael corrected.

''Alright. After that, when the new ear was in place, I'm assuming you put the faulty one somewhere to be examined later...?'' Mark probed.

''I'm guessing we did. I really don't remember; I'm sorry.''

''On a shelf, maybe? Or in the safe?''

Michael shrugged. ''I'd imagine in the safe, since it's Classified material. But I really have no picture of it - and I don't want to make something up when there's nothing there.''

_How admirable_, Mark thought to himself. He decided to just go for it all - and see where it led. ''Or did you put the faulty ear somewhere you could get to easily, so you could put it back in Jaime's head?''

''Did I..._what_? Are you crazy?'' Michael exclaimed. ''That could kill her!''

''Alright; you put the faulty ear...somewhere,'' Mark prompted. ''And that's absolutely the last thing you remember?''

''I don't remember putting it anywhere, but I'll assume we did, yes. _Removing _it is the last thing I remember.''

Mark was tired of playing cat-and-mouse with the truth. If that was really Michael's last memory, there was one question he should have no trouble answering. Mark pitched it at him from out of left field. ''Tell me how you feel about Jaime,'' he said firmly. Michael merely looked at him, raising his eyebrows as though the question was beyond ridiculous. ''Do you love her?'' Mark persisted.

''Yes. Of course I do.''

* * *

''You know you've still got your vacation with Steve to look forward to,'' Rudy reminded Jaime, very quietly. She didn't blink. ''Where do you think you'll go? Or are you going to let Steve decide? Because he'll pick somewhere like Peoria or Dubuque. I know you don't want that. Toledo...Fargo...'' Rudy had hoped for a laugh or even the slightest acknowledgment...but there was nothing.

''Try the moon, Doc,'' Steve muttered blearily from the gurney. ''Or a nice tour of Area 51. I know a guy...who knows a guy...'' He'd slept for only an hour but he'd never let go of Jaime's hand - and now he picked up instinctively on what Rudy was trying to do. ''Wanna meet the little green men, Sweetheart?'' he teased lightly. ''That'd make for...an unforgettable honeymoon!''

''Green...men...don't...exist...'' the softest of voices chimed in from the bed.

''Said the civilian to the astronaut,'' Steve retorted.

Jaime blinked...and giggled. Once again, Steve had known exactly the right medicine.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

While Jaime rested and Steve pretended to rest (thinking instead of ways he might get past the bailiffs and END this thing with Michael - one way or another), Rudy prepared to meet with his young protege for the first time since his initial arrest. He'd read the initial reports from Doctor Corinth and Mark Conrad (and - of course - met with both men). Like his colleagues, he was going to try and approach this with an open mind and no preconceived notions...but for Rudy, this was very, very difficult. He'd placed immeasurable trust in Michael - and that trust had been broken, repeated and viciously.

He decided that if Michael was going the 'innocent and unknowing' route, then he would follow suit...for the most part. Michael was sitting up in bed, just finishing lunch, when Rudy strolled in as casually as if he was just visiting an old friend in the hospital. ''I see you have company,'' Rudy noted, nodding to the bailiffs and guards who stood watchfully with their hands on their weapons.

''They don't have much to say, even when I talk to them'' Michael replied. ''It's good to see you.''

''You talk to them?''

''Well, I'd love to know why they're here,'' Michael said smoothly.

''Any thoughts on that?'' Rudy asked.

''Judging from the way I feel, I'm guessing Austin finally had enough and tried to bash my head in. They're here to make sure he doesn't finish the job.''

''And why would he want to do that?''

Michael shrugged. ''Might be because he thinks I'm trying to be with his wife.''

''Are you?''

''Of course I am. Rudy, I know I told you I could keep my emotions in check. I promised the same thing to Steve; we shook on it. But...I love her, Rudy! And if there's the slightest chance I can be with her...''

''You talked to Steve about this? When?''

''The other day. He wanted me to continue caring for Jaime, but only if I could assure him nothing would ever happen. And I gave him my word...but I don't think I can keep it. I'll consult on her case because I think a new doctor will need that when we find one. But if you decide to transfer me to keep me away from her, I'll give up medicine to be with this woman, Rudy. She's the only one I've ever known who would be worth it.''

Rudy knew he'd just suddenly become another star witness for the prosecution. _He __had__ him_!

* * *

After exchanging a few casual pleasantries with Michael, Rudy had taken his leave - and immediately arranged a meeting in the conference room with Oscar, Mark, Doctor Corinth, Frank Morrisey...and _Steve_.

''He's faking!'' Rudy announced. ''I _know _it now - and I can prove it! The bailiffs witnessed every word he said!''

''Tell us what happened,'' Morrisey prompted.

Rudy turned to Steve. ''You and Michael had a discussion about his feelings for Jaime; I remember you telling me about it and I remember when it happened.''

''That's right,'' Steve confirmed. ''He gave me his word - 'as a physician and as a man', he said - that he would keep his feelings _and his hands_to himself. We shook on it. And since he'd just saved my life...I believed him.''

''Exactly,'' Rudy said (almost jumping up and down with the excitement of his discovery. ''And Michael is a brilliant actor, concocting this defense. He could've walked - but he won't now!''

''Rudy,'' Oscar interrupted, ''_what happened_?''

''He told me he'd had a discussion with Steve - about keeping his emotions in check - and that they shook on it. If he really remembers nothing following the removal of Jaime's faulty ear, that conversation shouldn't be in his memory! And he not only told me about it...we have four other men who witnessed it. And two of them are officers of the Court.''

Morrisey nodded...and smiled. ''Looks like we've got him.''

* * *

The Court reconvened a few days later, as soon as Jaime was well enough to attend. She and Michael once again sat on opposite sides of the table (both in wheelchairs) but this time Jaime occupied herself with the papers in front of her and watched the attorneys and the judge - anything other than looking at Michael. Reinert's eyes were grim as he began to speak.

''Your Honor, in light of new developments, my client wishes to change his plea to Guilty.''

There would be no extended Tribunal. Jaime would not have to testify. All that remained would be the sentencing and Jaime (and Steve) would not need to be present for that. For them, the (legal) nightmare was _over_. Jaime would return to her hospital bed and she and Steve would continue therapy with Mark - but the threat of having to relive her traumas in vivid detail before the Court (while Michael stared her down) was _over_. Once she had physically recovered from her traumas, it seemed the vacation/honeymoon could _finally_ commence..._**in peace**_.

* * *

''Sure you don't want to meet the little green men?'' Steve teased.

''I told you - they don't exist.'' Jaime's laughter was music to everyone's ears.

''So...where would My Lady like to go? If you could choose anywhere in the world?'' Steve asked.

Jaime smiled. ''Let's go back to 'our' island. I think even the 'Island Spirits' would approve this time.''


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Jaime and Steve watched the boat that had dropped them off until they couldn't see it anymore (or at least, until Jaime couldn't see it) before they finally dared to believe that this time, their vacation was actually happening. After Michael pled guilty, Jaime had spent another week in the hospital, until her flashbacks had dwindled to a manageable few. They had spent several more weeks recuperating at home, allowing Jaime to regain her physical strength and finding their footing again as a couple. The trio of doctors had been over-cautious before clearing them for the trip because this time Jaime and Steve would be truly _alone_. Mark and Rudy were ensconced in a hotel at Paradise Island, twenty minutes away by boat if needed, but they (along with Doctor Corinth) wanted to ensure that the newlyweds would be as free from physical and emotional danger as it was possible to get them.

At Mark's suggestion, to allow themselves time to mend their bruised psyches (and to make the honeymoon truly feel like a _honeymoon_), Jaime and Steve had avoided sexual contact after her release from the hospital. They'd found it impossibly frustrating (but tantalizing too) to kiss each other good night and fall asleep simply holding hands. As a result, now that they were on the island - and truly _alone_ - they wanted each other _desperately_.

They set their bags down in the living room area; unpacking could definitely wait! Someone had clearly been there not long before them, but this time the motive was anything but ominous. An ice bucket with a bottle of chilled champagne waited on the counter along with a note that simply said _Enjoy_...signed by Oscar himself.

''Oscar has elves, even on an island,'' Jaime marveled.

''Island Spirits,'' Steve corrected. He wanted to grab his wife and _take_ her, right there on the rug in front of the little fireplace, _right now_...but after waiting this long, he intended to do it _right_. Guessing correctly, he went to the freezer and found two icy champagne flutes...and yes, there were strawberries in the fridge, already hulled. (As he'd told Jaime the last time they were here, the OSI did everything in style.)

''Island Spirits, then,'' Jaime said with a giggle. Then her eyes grew serious. ''I hope they like us better this time.''

Steve drew her into his arms and kissed her softly. ''I'm sure they do.''

For a split second, Jaime flashed on an image of having to kiss Michael in the cabin - but it was gone almost before her mind could acknowledge it and she relaxed into her husband's embrace. ''The champagne could always wait 'til later,'' she suggested. The pure love in Steve's gaze quickly found her melting point and with one hand he returned the flutes to the freezer as his other hand entwined in Jaime's hair, deepening the next kiss. ''I need you..._now_,'' Jaime moaned softly.

Steve was more than happy to comply. He lifted Jaime easily into his arms, their lips never breaking contact as he carried her to the bedroom and laid her back against the soft down pillows. He undressed her with almost excruciating slowness, reveling in the effect it was having on her. Jaime clutched at him hungrily...but Steve would not be rushed. When she began pleading - with her eyes, her body's motions and the soft little sounds she was making - Steve could hold out no longer. In the way they liked best, their eyes met at the same moment their bodies did, making their union one of _souls_.

They remained united for a very long time, pausing to rest only occasionally but never leaving the comforting luxury (because now they knew what a luxury it was) of each other's arms.

* * *

Judge Rafferty had taken his time, considering every fact carefully before re-convening the court for Michael's sentencing. It had taken nearly a month and the timing couldn't have been more ironic. Michael and his attorney took their places and Oscar, Hansen and Frank Morrisey sat on the opposite side of the table at nearly the precise moment that Jaime and Steve were _reuniting_.

''As to the charges of Attempted Murder of a Federal Agent,'' the judge began, ''As a concession for the plea of Guilty, sentence shall be eight years on each of the first five counts and twenty years on the sixth, for the attack on Doctor Wells. These sentences shall run consecutively. The defense as to the Kidnapping charge, that the victim released the defendant from custody and thus went willingly with him...is _denied_. Sentence of 20 years to life for Aggravated Kidnapping, to run consecutively with the previous sentences. At least fifty percent of sentence shall be served before consideration for parole.''

Oscar nodded with satisfaction. Michael would never walk free again.

* * *

Mark and Rudy prepared to lay into two of the biggest steaks they'd ever seen. ''Think they're doing alright?'' Rudy asked.

''They're strong enough to help each other through the rough patches now,'' Mark confirmed. ''And they have 'grounding' materials if they need them. They're through the worst of it, but some problems could still crop up. They have each other though - so they'll be fine.''

* * *

Jaime laid across Steve's chest, his fingers playing with her hair - and both of them feeling too languid and satiated to get up. ''What's for dinner?'' Jaime asked softly.

''_You_,'' Steve chuckled.

Jaime laughed with him. ''We have to eat some time - to keep up our strength for what's really important.''

''Grilled shrimp would go well with that champagne.'' Steve was suddenly ravenous. ''But maybe you should light the grill...''


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The sunset was especially brilliant, in glittering gem tones of topaz and pink sapphire. Jaime and Steve, their stomachs filled with grilled shrimp, fruit salad and (of course) champagne and their bodies completely contented, settled down on a blanket in the sand to watch the light show as the stars began dotting the sky one by one. They stretched out next to each other, lying very close as they stared up into the sky.

Steve reached over to run a tender hand across his wife's face...and Jaime suddenly flinched away from him, trembling, with tears in her eyes. ''Sweetheart...?'' he asked tentatively.

Jaime looked up at the stars and tried to shake off the memory of someone else reaching for her...lying down and in the same position. It didn't work. ''Hold me...'' she whispered, allowing Steve to pull her closer, breathing in his scent and feeling the _love_ in his touch. She buried her face in his chest and reminded herself she was _safe _there.

''Wanna tell me about it?'' Steve asked gently. Jaime shook her head and leaned into him, feeling comfort in his strong arms until...

''I can't!'' she gasped, rolling away from him, off the blanket and into the sand. She was breathing hard from a fear she didn't want to identify (or give voice to) and inhaled sand as she rolled, ending up on her back, choking and sputtering.

''Roll onto your side!'' Steve told her with urgency, correctly guessing that touching her at that moment would only make things worse.

Jaime listened to him and was able to spit out the sand before she'd actually inhaled it. The tears in her eyes turned into frightened little sobs as her gaze focused again and she looked up at her husband (who was kneeling over her, his own eyes filled with worry). ''Help...me...'' she whispered.

Steve swept Jaime into his arms, carried her into the house, tucked her in to the big bed...and reached for the radio. ''No...'' Jaime pleaded. ''I can...shake it off. I already have! Please don't call them; not on our first night here. Please?''

Steve gripped the mic with determination - and loving concern for his wife. ''Sweetheart, they need to know. You 'saw' Michael...didn't you?'' he asked gently.

Jaime nodded. ''But he...it wasn't like a flashback. I mean, I knew he wasn't really here - or I wasn't there - it just...I...I'm okay now. Really.''

He was already transmitting, in spite of her reassurances. ''Island Two, this is Island One. Do you read?''

''We've got you clear as a bell, Steve,'' Rudy responded quickly. ''Just checking in?''

''We've had a bit of...an incident,'' Steve told him reluctantly. Had they been premature in insisting they could handle being alone out here; was Jaime really well enough? Maybe they shouldn't have been so quick to disallow having the doctors stay in the second cabin. He glanced over to the night table, where 'grounding' materials - lemons and limes, peppermint oil, a radio with headphones - were ready if they should need them. For now, he left them where they were but Steve was grateful for the foresight that had caused them to be placed on the list (and waiting for them).

''Mark is here too, Steve; what happened? Are you both alright?''

''We're okay...I think,'' Steve told the doctors. ''A little while ago, we were _wonderful_.'' (He didn't need to go into detail about _that_!) Slowly, as best he could, he described for Mark and Rudy what had happened out on the sand. A few feet away from him, Jaime cried silently, cursing Michael for the fact that even now that the trial was over, even after all the therapy and hard work, he had still 'found' her here.

Rudy and Mark listened carefully, then Mark took the microphone. ''Is Jaime 'grounded' now - fully present - and is she in any physical pain?''

Steve looked at his wife. ''I'm okay,'' she repeated. ''And...I'm sorry...''

''She seems okay now.''

''We'll drop out there in the morning, then, instead of calling you,'' Mark decided. ''Keep us posted, if you need to; we're here.''

''Will do, Island Two - and thank you. Island One...out.'' Steve hung the microphone back in its socket and sank down next to Jaime. ''I had to,'' he told her.

''I know.'' She reached for him with both arms around his waist, pulling Steve closer to her. He eyed her carefully, letting her take the full lead in wherever it was she was going. Where she was going was...physical comfort. Jaime needed to feel her husband as close to her as she could entice him to be, to chase away her demons so she could fall asleep in his arms without fear of nightmares.

Slowly, tenderly, Steve did everything he could to chase her nightmares from Jaime's mind. Sleep turned out to be several hours away, as they once again drew strength (and comfort) from the power of each other's love. Afterward, Steve held her as she drifted off...then spent a long time just watching Jaime sleep. She looked so peaceful, with a happy little smile on her face and her body so totally relaxed, curled half across his chest and half in the crook of his arm.

There were _no _nightmares...for either of them.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Rudy checked Jaime's vitals and her neurological responses even more thoroughly than usual. ''Flying colors,'' he told her worried husband. ''Now it's your turn, just because I'm an old fart who worries a lot. Then you and I can have some coffee.'' Steve nodded his assent and kissed Jaime before she headed outside with Mark.

''So...tell me what happened,'' Mark prompted.

Jaime sighed and stretched her legs out in front of her, digging little trenches in the sand with her toes. ''Am I allowed to say I don't wanna talk about it?''

''Nope.''

''So you wanna know how I feel...right?'' Jaime responded.

Mark smiled at her. ''That'd be a good start.''

''Okay. I'm mad. I'm...damn _angry_! Michael's done enough damage without intruding here too! I want him _gone_!''

''Then let's banish him,'' Mark agreed.

* * *

Inside the house, Steve had (of course) passed his check up easily but as he and Rudy sat down in the living room area with steaming mugs of coffee, words weren't coming as easily to him as good vital signs had. He had so much he wanted - needed - to talk about...but he didn't know where to start.

Rudy started for him. ''Might be none of my business and you can tell me to butt out, but other than this...incident...how did everything go last night? Were the two of you able to...ah...connect?''

Steve smiled at his dear friend's sudden awkwardness. ''Rudy, let's just say it was well worth waiting for. Things were going well; really, really well!''

''I'm glad. You both deserve that.''

''And then...it was like she didn't want me to touch her - or even be near her!''

''It's not you,'' Rudy comforted, placing a paternal hand on Steve's shoulder. ''Never doubt your love for each other; not for one second.''

''You're pretty smart for a non-shrink-type. Thanks,'' Steve said simply. ''And I know. The second she was able, Jaime reached out for me. That's progress.''

''That's _excellent _progress. I've got news from the mainland, if you'd like to hear it.''

''The sentencing?'' Steve asked.

Rudy nodded. ''Eighty years - to Life, if that makes a difference - with 50 percent served before parole eligibility.''

''That's a relief. He'll never have a chance to hurt her again.''

''He'll never hurt _either _of you again,'' the doctor confirmed.

''He got exactly what he deserved,'' Steve agreed. ''Let me tell Jaime, okay? When the time is right.''

''Of course. You're here to get away from all of that...to truly start leaving it behind.''

* * *

''It's not fair!''' Jaime exclaimed softly. She wasn't pouting or whining; just noting it. ''I mean, I know this line of works gets us knocked around and put through the mill - it's to be expected. We get patched up and we go out again on the next mission when it comes. But this...it's not fair!''

''You're right; it isn't,'' Mark confirmed.

''Will I always be...like _this_?''

''You mean the flashbacks?''

''Yeah...''

Mark wouldn't lie to her. ''You may always have the occasional nightmare, especially when you experience a new trauma. And we both know the traumas are out there. But you're already doing remarkably better than when you were in the hospital...and the flashbacks will gradually fade until they're very, very rare for you. You and Steve have all the tools you need to deal with them - and there's no shame or harm in calling for help when one is just too much for you to handle alone.''

''You'll be going back to Washington soon...'' Jaime noted.

''My assistants have been doing a great job handling my practice there. I stay where I'm most needed. But the time is coming when you and Steve will be able to lean on each other, so yes; I'll be going back soon...but only when you're ready. Now...about yesterday.''

Jaime leaned over and filled in the trenches her feet had dug in the sand...then dug a few more. ''I don't know what happened...'' she said quietly. ''We were...I think it was...the best we've ever had.'' Jaime blushed as the words spilled out. ''And then...sitting right here...he...I saw _Michael_. Why?''

''I'll hazard a guess that you were in the same position - with the same actions - as when you were dealing with Michael...?'' Mark queried.

''Yeah. I guess...you're right.''

Mark nodded. ''That's going to happen from time to time. But the good news is that you didn't have a flashback. And you were able to let Steve help you. That's _huge_, you know.''

''How do I fight this? How do I get him outta my head...for good?''

''Do exactly what you're doing. Don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it...and lean on Steve. He loves you more than I think I've ever seen. Help each other - and you'll both get through this.''

''Promise?''

''Absolutely.''

* * *

After an easy, relaxed lunch with their patients, Mark and Rudy called for the boat - and Jaime and Steve fell into each other's arms. With each kiss and every tender caress, they were exorcising their demons and strengthening a bond that was already unbreakable. The sunset found them once again on their private strip of beach, but this time they were too wrapped up in each other (and in ecstasy beyond words) to count the stars.

The Island Spirits _had _to be smiling!


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Steve woke in the middle of the night when his subconscious let him know that his arms were empty. Jaime wasn't beside him in bed - and he had a momentary flash of panic when she wasn't in the kitchen having a midnight snack either. Then he looked out the window and the moonlight's reflection off the sand was enough for him to see her sitting there, staring out at the water with her knees drawn pensively up to her chest. He made just enough noise in opening and closing the cabin door that she wouldn't be startled by his approach...but she didn't look up.

''Jaime...?'' he said quietly.

''I'm okay. Well...sort of.''

Steve sat down beside her, unsure at first if it was alright to touch her. Her cheeks were stained with tears but her eyes were fully 'present'. ''Did you have a nightmare?'' he asked. (Surely _that_ would've awakened him.)

''No. Just...thinking.''

''Care to share?'' he asked gently. When Jaime turned her face to look at him and he saw the full extent of the pain she was in, he couldn't hold himself back any longer from taking her in his arms. She leaned gratefully into him.

''Steve, I...I wanna have a baby,'' she announced.

They had, of course, discussed this many times. Both had a strong desire to become parents but - until now, at least - the discussion had remained open-ended. Something to talk about in the future, they'd agreed. It didn't seem to coincide with Jaime's wish to go back to work (and to keep working)...and there had been something else that had always stopped the idea in its tracks. Not that a pregnant Jaime would be vulnerable to kidnappers (or worse)...but that their potential child might live in danger, simply by virtue of who his or her parents were. They hadn't been able to find a way past that worry and had tabled the idea as something to talk about in the future.

It seemed the future was suddenly _**now**_. ''And this is what put tears in those beautiful eyes?'' Steve asked gently, holding her close.

''What if...'' she began uneasily, ''I...what if I might be..._pregnant_?''

Steve's heart beat faster. ''Sweetheart, do you think...?''

''I don't know...maybe.''

''Jaime, that's wonderful!'' he exulted. ''But...you don't seem very happy about this.'' The moonlight played off the water and the sand, dappling enough light onto her beautiful features that Steve could tell his wife's expression wasn't the one he'd expect when delivering this news.

''I am...I mean...I think...'' her voice trailed off plaintively.

Steve's hands found the small of her back and he tenderly rubbed in small circles in a gesture of comfort as he felt her body begin to shake slightly. ''You just said you _want_a baby - and you know how I feel - so...what's wrong?'' She looked up at him with fresh tears in her eyes but didn't speak. ''Jaime...?'' he persisted.

''I don't...I'm not sure if...''

''If you aren't sure, Rudy can give you a test. I think he can get what he needs on the Island.''

Jaime shook her head. ''No, it's not that. What if...'' she just couldn't seem to find the words to voice what was on her mind...what was chilling her to the bone on such a warm Spring night.

Steve racked his brain to try and come up with what might be troubling her. ''Your body can handle it; Rudy made sure of it when we asked him. Remember?'' Jaime shook her head. Whatever was bothering her, Steve could see that it was more than the uncertainty of a potential new mother. ''Is it Oscar?'' he guessed. ''He'll be okay with this. And if he isn't, he'll have me to deal with. Or...both of us to deal with,'' he joked, trying to make her smile. It didn't work. Jaime's eyes were dark with sadness...and _fear_. ''Sweetheart, please - what is it?''

''We don't...I mean I...I'm not sure...what happened...in the cabin...with Michael.'' There. She'd said it. It was out there - her worst fear. The realization had awakened Jaime from a sound sleep and taken her out of her husband's arms and into the night.

''Sounds like a bridge we'll have to cross when we come to it,'' Steve said carefully. ''But Jaime...a baby is wonderful news! Don't let _him_ - or thoughts of him - cloud what you've always wanted! What _we've_always wanted!'' He tipped his head down to kiss her and Jaime clung to him. He fully understood what she was trying to say but (for the moment, anyway) it didn't make a shred of difference. Dwelling on a 'maybe' would cloud what should be a special time for both of them - and he refused to give Michael that power. Besides, it couldn't possibly be true...could it?

Jaime finally voiced it for both of them. ''Steve...what if this is Michael's baby?''


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

_Steve...what if this is Michael's baby...? _The very thought tore at Steve's heart...but not for the obvious reason. What ate him alive from the inside out was the thought of Michael looming over Jaime while she was drugged, unconscious or incapacitated. They didn't even know for certain if anything had happened - and Steve and Jaime had both worked hard to let it go - but now that very uncertainty was rearing its ugly head and slapping them right in the face. The more Steve thought about it, the angrier he got - not at Jaime; she'd done nothing wrong - but at someone whose throat Steve would have thought about ripping out if he wasn't in the protection of the Federal Pen.

Jaime...was distraught. At what should've been one of the happiest times of their lives (and quite possibly, still would be) she was living with a huge question mark in her head...and in her belly. Because...of course...

''You're pregnant!'' Rudy confirmed, hugging Jaime joyfully and clapping Steve on the back...before he noticed that their mood didn't match his own. He turned to Mark; this appeared to be his territory.

''Let's talk,'' the therapist suggested. ''Separately or together?''

Steve and Jaime sat next to each other on the little love seat, entwined in each other's arms. ''We're a team, Doc,'' Steve told him. ''We'll deal with this together.''

Mark nodded. Whatever was on their mind, the fact that they were presenting a united front was a hopeful sign. ''What's on your mind?'' When the Austins seemed to not know where to start, he began running through possibilities for them. ''I'm guessing it has something to do with what should be wonderful news. Are you afraid of how Oscar will react?''

''No,'' Steve answered for them. ''Whatever he says or does...we'll deal with it. Doc, we were wondering if...'' He turned to his wife; if she was able, this should be her thought to voice.

''Mark,'' Jaime began uneasily, ''when I was in the cabin with Michael, so much happened all at once. But when I woke up and he was laying there next to me, he tried to say _something _had happened. I was...my clothes were all on...and...I, well...I was sure nothing had happened. Now, I'm not so sure.''

Mark nodded, instantly grasping what she was trying to say. The possibility was horrifying, to say the least. ''This is why you're not turning cartwheels over the news this morning,'' he deduced.

''Yeah...'' Jaime snuggled a little closer to Steve. ''Is there any way to _know_?'' she asked both doctors.

''There are blood tests, to see whose type the baby might share,'' Rudy told them. ''They can be performed even before the baby is born, but then you're looking at amniocentesis, which does pose a risk. In my opinion, you're better off waiting until after delivery, if you can...but that's something to talk over with an obstetrician - and I'll connect you with one of the best, when we get back to the States.''

''If you're asking if anything happened at all,'' Mark told them, ''we can consider hypnosis. But I have to warn you that you'd be fully reliving what happened in that cabin, some of which you may not want 'unlocked' and returned to your memory.''

''I think...'' Jaime said, looking into Steve's eyes, ''we'd like to do that.''

''When we go back home?'' Mark suggested, thinking they'd like to enjoy the island first.

''How about...tomorrow?'' Steve requested. Jaime nodded. They'd already come up with the possibility on their own and wanted to go through with it - the sooner the better. ''I'm assuming there's an obstetrician somewhere on the main Island - or maybe one could be flown in - to make sure she's okay. And that she _stays_ okay...but we'd really like to _know_...''

''We'd like to know if this _thing _even happened at all,'' Jaime finished for him. ''Maybe we're worrying over nothing.''

''And you're sure about this?'' Mark asked.

Both Austins nodded affirmatively. ''We talked it over,'' Jaime explained. ''If...nothing happened...we need to know that. And if something did...we need to know that even more.''

''We'll make the arrangements,'' Mark promised.

* * *

''Jaime, Steve,'' Rudy began, introducing the newcomer who'd flown out from the States overnight, ''I'd like you to meet Doctor Hammond. He's an obstetrician out of Los Angeles and might be a good match for you.''

Steve shook the doctor's hand. ''Thank you for coming.''

Jaime smiled tentatively. ''He knows...about everything?''

''He's worked with me at my facility in the past,'' Rudy explained. ''He has Security Clearance. So yes, he was able to review your _entire_file on the flight down.''

''He'll have a look at you, to make sure everything is as it should be,'' Mark explained. ''Then with his go-ahead, we can get started.''

Jaime and Doctor Hammond retreated to the bedroom and when they emerged, the doctor was smiling. In spite of her current difficulties, his new patient had charmed him with her bravery and her humor. ''Clean bill of health,'' he certified to everyone waiting in the living area.

''So let's do this,'' Jaime told Mark.

''You're sure?'' Mark asked them again.

Steve wrapped a protective arm around his wife...and Jaime nodded. ''If nothing happened, then we have nothing to worry about. It'll be a weight off our shoulders.''

''And if the worst _did_ happen up there in that cabin,'' Steve finished, ''we'll deal with it - _together_. Either way, we have a baby coming. And we're going to be a _family_.'' On that thought (and that promise) he kissed his wife and everyone crammed into the little bedroom. Jaime was made comfortable on the big, fluffy down pillows and Steve sat close to one side of the bed. He knew that for the purposes of what they were about to do, he wouldn't be able to touch her...but he wanted Jaime to know (as she went under and would obviously be more than a little frightened) that he was there, as close as he could be, offering his support.

Mark pulled a chair directly next to the bed. They were ready to begin.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Jaime was fully 'under' very quickly...and Mark began to guide her through one of her worst (real-life) nightmares. ''Okay, Jaime,'' he began in a soft, lulling voice, ''remember at all times that you're only _viewing_ these experiences - _**not **_living them. They cannot hurt you now; not anymore.''

''I know...''

''When you were kidnapped by Michael Marchetti, what's the first thing you remember?''

''I didn't wanna...go with him,'' Jaime said quietly. Her voice sounded very small...and _frightened_. ''He had a gun and he made me drive...and then we switched cars.''

''What happened next?''

''He pushed me into the back seat...and he stuck a needle in my neck. It hurt! I...went to sleep...and I woke up...in a cabin.'' Jaime started painfully recalling everything she could see - the terrifying sensation of being too weak to move, the way he kissed her to get a reaction that Steve could hear...and his laughter when he knew he'd gotten to both of them. He'd kissed her again after ending the transmission...and she knew she had to do whatever it took to stay alive.

''I didn't...wanna die...'' Jaime whimpered. She began to cry softly as the memories vividly assailed her senses.

''We understand that, Jaime,'' Mark told her. ''Just remember that whatever you had to do, you're alive and you're here - so _you did it right_.''

''This...wasn't right. I...I kissed him. I wanted him to trust me...so I wouldn't get another needle...'' Her voice trailed off.

''Did it work?'' Mark prompted.

''No...I even...I _had to_...I told him I loved him...and he still stuck me again. In my neck...and it _burned_!''

In his chair near the bed, Steve was burning, too - at the thought of what his wife had been forced to go through.

Jaime spoke softly about blacking out again and then coming to - even less able to move than before. Michael had placed a pen in her hand and held the awful papers - _annulment papers_ - where she could reach them. ''I signed...because I had to...'' she explained. ''I used...a different name from my...regular signature...so it hopefully wouldn't be legal...and to let them know I needed _help_. Then...he...Michael...he kissed me...and jabbed me with a needle again.''

For a moment, she looked pleadingly at Mark - as if she didn't want to go on - and Rudy and Doctor Hammond stood ready to stop her if things grew too physically dangerous.

''Jaime, you can stop any time you need to,'' Mark reminded her. ''Just remember you're only _viewing_ what happened now; you're safe here. _You are safe_.''

Jaime nodded...and went on. ''He kissed me again, before I was...all the way awake. I couldn't move...I couldn't...push him off...I tried - I did! But...he gave me those needles...and I couldn't move...and then I...blacked out.''

Mark stared directly into her eyes, trying to wordlessly take her deeper under hypnosis. The memory may have been lost to her entirely (due to what Michael had injected her with) but it may also have been buried somewhere in her subconscious, a sensory memory too painful to allow into the light of day. As much as Mark hated watching her suffer, this was what she and Steve wanted, so as long as it wasn't physically dangerous, it was his job to try and pull it out of her. ''I need you to try and remember what happened while you were 'blacked out', Jaime,'' he instructed.

''O...k...'' she answered. Her hazel eyes clouded with too many tears and Jaime shuddered as she struggled to relate what happened next. Steve had to fight the urge to sweep her into his arms and comfort her - because Jaime looked absolutely bereft.

''Close your eyes and allow yourself to go deeper into the moment,'' Mark told her.

Jaime gave a tiny whimper and then complied. ''He was undressing me...sort of. He left...most of my clothes on. It was like...I could _see_ him...and I could _feel_...but I couldn't move. I...I had kissed him...told him I loved him...to try and make him _trust _me...but...not this! I never meant...''

Rudy and Doctor Hammond continued to watch her closely - but no one was keeping a closer eye on Jaime than Steve was. His heart was breaking for her...and his hands were balled into fists as he contemplated what he'd do to Marchetti if he was allowed just five minutes alone with him.

''I...would rather...just die...please...'' Jaime choked back a sob as, in spite of Mark's instruction, she seem to be reliving the entire experience, rather than just viewing it. ''He said...he loved me too...that now I was _his_...and he said...he told me...he was gonna take what was his...and...he did.''

She didn't need to go into detail. There was no doubt in anyone's mind what she meant by these pain-filled words. ''Jaime, you've done an amazing job,'' Mark told her. '' And you're _safe_. He cannot hurt you anymore. I want you to start to wake up now - very slowly. I'll count backwards from ten to one and when I reach 'one', you'll open your eyes and be back here with us on the island. Your memories are just that - memories. Ten...Nine...''

When he reached 'one', Jaime's eyes flew open and flooded with fresh tears. It had happened. The knowledge was there. Steve gently wrapped his arms around her and held her close until her shaking eased. The doctors (after ensuring she was physically alright) quietly left the room to give them some privacy.

''I love you so much,'' Steve whispered in her ear. ''And we're having a _baby_. That's what we need to focus on now. Nothing else matters. Do you hear me?'' Jaime nodded, sobbing as she leaned into him. ''We'll go forward from here - and whatever happens, we'll deal with it. Together. We're a _family_- and we can do this!''

Jaime tilted her head to look at him and their gazes (and their souls) locked together in unity against whatever might be coming their way. The worst of it was 'out there' now and it would take time but they would deal with it as they dealt with everything - _as a team_.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

After everything had died down and the doctors were gone, Jaime and Steve fixed a quiet dinner together. He never left her side and that seemed to give her strength. Together, they chopped vegetables for a salad, slathered garlic butter on bread slices and grilled the steaks. They moved in a sort of stunned semi-shock; with their worst fears confirmed, they had nowhere to go but up. After dinner, as they polished off the last of the wine, Steve reached across the table to gently clasp Jaime's hand. He gazed into her eyes...and smiled.

''You were so brave today,'' he told her softly. ''And you were brave in that cabin. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. And I won't lie; I'm furious too. But not at you. You did what you needed to do - to survive - and you got a confession. He's going away for a very long time. I'm so proud of you, Sweetheart.''

''Steve...I kissed him.''

''I know. And it kept you _alive_. That's what's important. You're here...and I'm so thankful for that.''

''Wait...you said _he's going away for a very long time_...was he sentenced?''

''He won't be eligible for parole for at least 40 years - and probably a lot longer,'' Steve told her.

Jaime let it sink in. ''I'm glad,'' she said finally. ''He deserves it.''

''Every bit of it,'' Steve agreed. ''And Sweetheart? We have a baby on the way. The two of us. I couldn't possibly love you any more than I do at this moment.''

''Steve...what if...''

''We have plenty of time to think about that. Right now, I'm alone on a private tropical island with a beautiful woman...and we have a table to clear.''

Jaime giggled, in spite of herself. ''Don't wanna make the Island Spirits unhappy by leaving a messy table, do we?''

* * *

The table was cleared, the dishes done (together, of course) and Steve suddenly found himself uncertain of what to do next. He wanted to take Jaime into his arms, lead her into the bedroom and show her that nothing had changed but he was afraid of spooking her...or causing a flashback. A snuggle on the beach at sunset seemed perfect - and they gravitated there almost instinctively, without needing to consult each other. Steve sank down into the sand and Jaime seated herself between his legs, leaning back against his chest. It seemed more natural to touch her now, to wrap his arms around her as she nestled into him...and Steve did exactly that. For a long time, they didn't speak - allowing the setting and their love to begin to heal them.

It was the ideal spot; a balm for their souls. The sun (still barely on the horizon) cast the entire rainbow of warm spectrum colors onto the palette of the brilliantly white sand. The sand in turn cast the colors onto the water and the result was a breath-taking display of the very best of nature...and the power of the Island Spirits to soothe troubled souls.

''A baby...'' Jaime whispered, as stars began to pepper the sky.

''_Our_ baby,'' Steve said softly. ''No matter what; this is _our_ baby.'' His anger toward Michael and everything he'd done had no bearing on his feelings for Jaime - or for their soon-to-be family. Tenderly, his lips brushed the back of his wife's neck...and she tipped her head up to kiss him. Her tongue darted toward his with a question of whether things were still the same...and Steve answered her in a tantalizingly slow exploration - with his lips, hands and deft, gentle fingertips - of everywhere he knew she liked to be touched. Jaime moaned happily and curled against him...and as the sun disappeared and the stars took over lighting the water, the sand proved to be a warm, soft bed...inviting them to stay right where they were to begin their healing journey..._together_.

* * *

The rest of the two weeks passed with Jaime and Steve finding joy in the beauty of their surroundings...and in each other. They spoke very little of what the hypnosis had uncovered. The knowledge was there but could be dealt with equally as well once they'd returned home. There were occasional nightmares but they helped each other through them with loving tenderness. Perhaps because of where they were and perhaps because everything was out in the open (and no longer buried protectively in Jaime's subconscious) there were no flashbacks. The trio of doctors dutifully boated out for a visit every morning, checking on their patients' well-being and sometimes staying for a relaxed lunch before returning to their hotel, reassured that everything was going as well as it possibly could; even better than they'd dared to hope for. For two weeks, Jaime and Steve allowed themselves to revel in just being together in such an idyllic setting. Reality could set in once they left the island...

* * *

In the harsher light of home (and the doctors' offices), Jaime and Steve found themselves at odds with what had happened to her. They had decisions that needed to be made...and as they began to talk things out and weigh their options, Steve was running headlong into a brick wall with his own emotions. Things between them grew tentative, with each afraid of hurting the other. Jaime had to pull Steve out of an especially vivid flashback, nearly triggering one in herself...and she finally turned to Mark for help and for answers.

''It isn't the same,'' she said with quiet pain. ''Nothing is.''

''Of course it's not,'' Mark agreed. ''Home and reality can't compare to tropical sunshine.''

''It's not that,'' Jaime explained (although it no doubt had something to do with it). ''Steve is _different _now...and I don't mean the flashback. It's almost like he's afraid to touch me...or like I'm repulsive now because of what happened.''

''He definitely doesn't see you as repulsive; I can tell you that right off the bat. He may see you as more fragile now that you both know what happened - or simply because there's a baby inside you. And that's a normal reaction. Give him time; give _both_ of you time. I'll talk with Steve but in the meantime, know that any reactions either of you have to what happened are _normal_. Everyone deals with trauma in their own way...and that's okay. As long as you don't internalize your feelings - just keep reaching out to each other and helping each other - you'll both be alright.''

Jaime hoped he was right.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Things were _different_, now that they were home. Steve couldn't put his finger on it, but he was clearly struggling...and in spite of what had worked in the past (and what he knew he _should _be doing), he began shying away from leaning on his wife. He felt he needed to be strong for her, and yet the knowledge of what Michael had done was tearing him up inside, eating away at him with an anger he didn't know the right outlet to deal with. When Jaime had a late afternoon appointment with Doctor Hammond (that she insisted on attending alone) and then one with Rudy, Steve took the opportunity to pour himself a drink. And then another. He was staring at the bottom of his empty glass when Mark showed up unannounced (the real reason Jaime had taken off on her own).

''So she sent you to check up on me,'' Steve grumbled morosely - guessing correctly the reason for this 'impromptu' visit.

''She's worried about you - and so am I. Just how far do you plan to go down this 'self-medicating' road?''

''Get me five minutes alone with Marchetti and it'll all go away!''

''You know that won't happen,'' Mark told him calmly. ''Wouldn't help anything, anyway. And neither will that glass.''

''Yeah, well...it can't hurt.'' Steve's eyes burned with unexpressed rage as he poured yet another drink.

''I'd like you to put that down,'' Mark suggested.

Steve took one long pull, drained the glass and set it down. ''There. Happy now?''

''Are you?'' Mark shot back. ''Tell me about you and Jaime. How are things going between you, now that you're home again?'' Wordlessly, Steve picked up the glass and threw it into the fireplace, shattering it into dozens of tiny, glistening, evil-looking shards. ''That good, huh?'' the doctor noted. ''Steve, you have every right to be angry, you know. In this situation, anger is to be expected; healthy, even. What you're doing now, though...not so healthy.''

''Yeah, well it gets me through.''

''Does it?'' Mark questioned.

''Yes!''

''And do you cope this way in front of Jaime?'' Mark pressed.

''Of course not!''

''That should tell you something, right there.''

''You don't _get it_, do you, Doc?'' Steve seethed.

''I 'get it' better than you think I do. You're so busy helping Jaime cope that you've forgotten you're a victim too.''

''Well...yeah.''

''So talk to me. How are things really going between you?''

''What did Jaime tell you?'' Steve demanded.

''Right now I'm more interested in what you tell me.''

''Persistent, aren't ya, Doc?''

''That's why they hired me,'' Mark told him.

''Alright. Things are...not so great. And it's my fault.'' Steve picked the bottle up, reached for a new glass...and set them both down. Mark smiled approvingly at him. Steve sighed and sank down into the easy chair. ''Jaime's...wonderful. I just don't know how to act with her anymore, I guess,'' he admitted. ''She's been hurt so terribly - first by Kingsley and even worse by Michael - and I don't know...how to help her. I'm afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing and making it all worse.''

''And you're angry,'' Mark noted.

''But not at Jaime.''

''Still, she senses that anger and if you're not letting her in on it - and letting her help you as much as you help her - she could misinterpret that unexpressed rage as being directed at her. She could come to the conclusion that you think she's at fault for what happened; it could drive a wedge between you that you never intended -''

''You're right,'' Steve allowed. ''But it doesn't feel like I should be heaping my pain on her when she's already suffering enough. Too much!''

''So then as a result she stops talking to you about what she's feeling - and you both suffer in silence, with your backs to each other. Is that the direction you'd want for the two of you?''

''Of course not.''

''Then don't let it happen.''

They were interrupted by the doorbell. Oscar stepped inside and was immediately assaulted by the smell of gin on Steve's breath. ''I thought we had an agreement, Pal,'' he said wearily.

''Yeah, well...a lot has changed since then,'' Steve told his boss.

''I need you for an assignment - but I can't send you out in this condition, so -''

''Whatever it is, I'll sober up on the plane, Oscar - you know that.''

''Where can I find Jaime?'' Oscar asked quietly.

Steve shook his head. ''Whatever it is, she's not going; she can't.''

''You're the one I can't send out, Pal,'' Oscar told him. ''And there's no time to 'sober up on the plane'. This is of utmost urgency and right here in Los Angeles. I can't send you - and consider yourself lucky if I don't decide to suspend you. But right now I have a 'fire' to put out...so where can I find your wife?''

Seated quietly (so far) in the corner, Mark realized that Oscar didn't know yet about the pregnancy. Things were about to get dicey - and he had to step in. ''Oscar...how strenuous is this mission?''

''Physically? Not at all. Basically, fact-finding...but at the highest level of Security. And to tell you the truth, I'd rather send Jaime with her listening capabilities...but was going to send Steve instead, to give her more of a chance to rest up from the Tribunal.''

''She can probably go,'' Mark allowed (as Steve seethed silently), ''but you'll have to check with Rudy first...and with Doctor Hammond.''

''Doctor Hammond...'' Oscar said thoughtfully. Then it hit him. ''Joe Hammond - the obstetrician?''

Steve nodded. ''That's right...Jaime's pregnant. So you have no choice; you have to send me.''

* * *

Within the hour, Rudy, Doctor Hammond and Doctor Corinth (for good measure) had been consulted...and Jaime was in the back of a limo, speeding off on a 'quick' assignment...while Steve was left at home to wait and worry. Mark stayed with him, but Steve had little to say as they waited for word. The gravity of what he'd done hit home in a big way. Because of his 'self-medication' (as Mark so bluntly put it), his pregnant wife was on a mission that had been intended for him. While she was home safely within hours, mission accomplished - just as Oscar had predicted - Steve vowed to himself that it would never happen again. Jaime had no idea of the real reason Oscar had tracked her down after her appointments to send her out - she believed it truly was just because of her ear. And in truth, bionic hearing had paved the way for such a quick and successful end to the assignment. Steve preferred to keep it that way, in the hope she'd never have to know what really happened.

Jaime was exuberant when she returned, happy she'd been able to _work_- and on her own - and complete things so successfully. Rudy had specified no bionic 'tricks' - no lifting cars by their bumpers or jumping three stories - and none had been required. This encouraged her - and she hoped to be able to go out again as soon as possible, using her wits and her 'talents' to accomplish something positive. She needed all the positivity she could get!


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The scent of gin was long gone from Steve's breath (and the broken glass cleaned out of the fireplace) before Jaime got home. Steve had a late candlelit dinner waiting (he'd ordered the finest take-out, rather than risk the fire alarm) and found he couldn't take his eyes off of her. ''You look...radiant,'' he told her.

''Steve, it felt so good to get out and do something useful...to think about something else for awhile...and to have it turn out so well!''

''I was really worried about you,'' he said simply. He was trying his best to do what Mark had suggested, to put his feelings 'out there' instead of keeping them bottled up inside. ''Worried about the baby too. And...I talked to Mark.''

''You did? He was here?'' Jaime feigned surprise, even though she was the one who'd sent the therapist to check on Steve in the first place...and they both knew it.

''Yeah. All afternoon.''

''And...?''

''He's very good at what he does. He could pull water out of a rock if he had half a mind to,'' Steve chuckled. ''I'm glad things went well today...but I'm not sure it's something you should get used to. Not now.''

''I'm fine; the baby's fine. I wouldn't have gone if any of the doctors had said no.''

''It's bad enough that you're out there, placing yourself in harm's way, but now...I just don't think you should do it, Sweetheart.''

Jaime smiled reassuringly. ''As long as it's not strenuous, the baby will be fine; Doctor Hammond said so.''

''You know as well as I do how quickly a situation can turn from a 'simple fact-finding mission' to having your back against the wall and fighting your way out. Oscar just better not make a habit of calling on you; that's all I'm saying.''

''I doubt he'll still be sending me out when I'm as big as a house,'' Jaime told him. ''But for now, if I can be useful...if I can help Oscar help our country...well, I need to do that. I _want _to do that! And I would never do anything that would put this baby in danger.''

She did look happier than Steve had seen her since they'd been home. ''I'm really proud of you,'' he said softly. ''Have I told you that today?''

They cleared the table together, threw out the take-out containers from the kitchen counter and washed the dishes, then retreated to the living room, the sofa...and each other's arms. As they sat talking, Steve held her as though she was the most cherished object on this Earth - which to him, she was - and Jaime found that his arms had a quiet strength and tenderness that made her feel _beautiful_ just by leaning into him. They could both feel their bruised psyches take giant leaps toward healing...which also meant they had to _talk_.

''Michael said what happened...was my fault,'' Jaime began tentatively. ''Because I kissed him in the hospital. Steve..._was it my fault_?'' She needed desperately to know how he viewed what had happened.

They had worked through what had happened in the hospital - painfully tearing apart every detail until they could finally leave it behind them - but thanks to Michael, there it was again. Steve pulled Jaime closer and gently cupped her chin in his hand, making her look at him. ''Do I wish you hadn't kissed him that day? Yeah...of course I do. But that has no bearing - _**none**_- on what Michael did to you! You aren't responsible for his losing every brain cell he ever had. And if I seem angry...I guess I am...but not at you, Sweetheart. Please know that. I'm angry with him! I told Mark today that all I'd need is five minutes alone with that freak and -''

''Steve...''

''Even 90 seconds would be enough!''

''Steve...that's exactly why they'd never let you near the place. And I understand. I do! I guess I'd be angry too...if it all didn't make me so sad. He was so talented...and then he threw it all away. And...what if this baby...?''

''This baby is _ours_, no matter what,'' Steve insisted.

''Rudy and Doctor Hammond...they told me today that they can do blood typing - yours, Michael's...and the baby's...and rule one or the other of you out.''

''I know; Rudy explained it to me too - this morning.''

''They can even test before the baby's born...but they'd use this really big, long needle and...'' Jaime shivered at the thought.

''I don't think we need to put you through that - or put _our baby _through any unnecessary risks. Let's wait,'' he finished softly.

''And if...?'' she couldn't finish the sentence.

''There is no 'if'. This baby...he's ours.''

''She.''

''Jaime, no matter what, we're a family.'' Steve reached his hand across her waist and tenderly laid it to rest on her belly. ''This little one...he's _ours_. We're the ones who'll get up in the middle of the night...every night...and we're the ones who'll be changing diapers, even the really gross stinky ones - although those can be yours if you want...and we're the ones who'll raise this baby - _together_. You and me; we're going to be his parents. That's what we need to focus on.''

''_She_,'' Jaime said emphatically. ''And I love you, Steve.''

* * *

END OF EPISODE 15  
END OF SEASON 4


End file.
